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((Alright, I lied. This will be the last entery for this week. Hope you enjoy. Chapter 3, page 1, will be posted around Tuesday, hopefuly.))

No! I thought to myself forecfuly. Death is not the answer. I sturggled up off the dirt floor and wandered over to the small hole in the ground. I saw that the last lucky resident must have gotten sick. A wave of dizziness of came over my head, washing out any thoughts. I walked back to the hay bed and sat down. With my back slumped against the wall I let the waves lull me into a dreamless sleep...

"Wake up, idot!" called a harsh voice. I opened one heavy eye lid. An officer was shaking me awake. My body was so soar the pain of his force made no differance. I groaned heartily and told him I was awake. He smirked slightly and left. I streghed and leaned against the bars of the jail cell. "Get off the bars!" barked the same officer. I did as he told me, instead leaning on the wall. My body screamed with pain, and a throbbing headache didn't make anything better. My clothes were again dirty, no doubt the hay was not fresh. Now that I looked at it closer, I saw a few flees jump from it's nastiness. I sighed, my postion seemed hopless. Where was I, anyways? I wodnered. I looked for a window, but there was none. Only a small skylight which showed that the hot sun was blazing above me. As soon as I returned my gaze to the officer gaurding me, the door that lead out of the cell room burst open. From behind my bars I watched a plump lady push a very stirle looking cart torwards me. On the cart was a bucket, and what it held I really had no clue. A plastic bowl was next to it.
"Breakfast." She called gruffly and put a ladle into the bucket. She poured what looked to be some kind of crude gruel into the bowl. I felt a lump raise in my throat. The lady grumbled soemthing and shoved th bowl between the bars. I took, relizing that I was hungery. She watched my eager eyes with out a sign of interest. I grabbed the spoon she offered and took a bite. It was horrible. It reminded very much of the taste of glue mixed with the tang of cow dung. I forced the fowl paste down my throat. My facemust have turned pale, for the officer laughed heartily. The lady seemed pleased aswell and left. I managed to eat the rest of the stuff, without, thankfuly, puking. Breakfast was over, and I wodnered what would be for lunch...

((Oooh! Find out what is for lunch. This point might not sound very eventful, but the next entery will be great! Believe me! So keep reading!!))